


Distract Me

by Jaeyong_ult



Category: Jungwoo, Kpop - Fandom, Luwoo - Fandom, NCT (Band), Yukhei - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeyong_ult/pseuds/Jaeyong_ult
Summary: Kim Jungwoo is an excellent student attending University with the hopes of becoming a photographer. He loves beauty and the many ways it is expressed. It's no surprise he is enamored by a fellow student whom he runs into--literally. But Jungwoo doesn't know that this encounter will awaken his love for beauty in other ways.





	Distract Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on the piece but this part is strong enough to stand on its own. I hope you guys enjoy!!

PART 1  
His finger hovered above the shutter-button on his camera, possessing great anxiety. He described it as the anxious feeling that tickled your stomach in the least pleasurable way; or the anticipation right before a lion strikes a wounded gazelle. It was a strange feeling, one that many would dislike, but since he had felt it many times before in his years of being a photographer, he gained a tolerance for it; he liked it.

_Click._

The shutters blinked and an image digitalized on the screen of his camera: it was a singular, delicate rose, facing the setting sun. Its vine had crept up the side of an off-white building and sprawled the expanse of the wall, but shamefully never blossomed more than one rose.  
Not shamefully—beautifully.

“Jungwoo? I’ve never seen you taking pictures on this side of campus,” spoke a smooth voice. The body of which it belonged to stood behind Jungwoo, peering over his shoulder and at the picture of the singular, delicate rose.

“I try not to take all my shots in the same place. It gets boring after a while,” he replied while saving the image.

“Because there’s nothing new to shoot at?”

“Yes, Joy, but also because there’s beauty elsewhere to admire.”

“You’re not flirting with me, are you?” Joy said tauntingly.

She didn’t mean it as a literal question, for her and Jungwoo had been friends since middle school; and there was also the fact Jungwoo did not pay much attention to women. He was attracted to other things, namely, men. That wasn’t to say he actively pursued the attention of his college mates and potential lovers. Jungwoo was focused mainly on two things: his photography and his bachelor’s degree. These were the two things he had been taught to strive for his whole life—passion, and education—and he was not intent on wasting his time to jeopardize either or both.  
He joined his friend to class, strolling through the slate-colored pavement that contrasted the vibrant grass. Students sat with their respective cliques, huddled next to a tree or laying together on a picnic blanket basking in the April sun. Each enjoyed the little time in between classes when they were able to see their friends’ faces and laugh at jokes about the things they missed as a result of their busy schedules.

Jungwoo thought these small encounters were cute; there was no interaction better than being with the people one loves. And Joy was proof of that. When Jungwoo first came out, Joy was the first to tell him it wasn’t a big deal and that it didn’t change the way she saw him. “The reason we became friends wasn’t that you were straight, it’s because you were the smart kid and I needed to pass that science class,” she’d say with a smile stretching across her face that would eventually erupt into an elegant and infectious giggle. Joy was a true friend.  
“Alright, time to go in. Take out your laptops and pull up a recently taken picture. It doesn’t have to be good, just pull one up and I’ll explain the rest.” Announced the professor.  
Students poured into the room like a crashing wave spreading across a coast. Jungwoo took his seat next to Joy, placing his bag down and pulling up the picture of the rose he had taken a while ago.

“Now, I want you to open up the first picture you took from the very first assignment.” The professor said. “What’s a similarity you see?”

Jungwoo raised his hand, “for me, I see that both pictures are about my environment, regardless of format.”

“Exactly. I’ve realized that a lot of you stick to a pretty butterfly or a wandering rose, but never the charred remains of ashes, or the rippling waves of a gutter pond. You all focus too much on the typical aesthetic but not the atypical. How are you going to stand out as a photographer if you take the same pictures as everyone else?”

Silence gripped the room. It was the sort of silence that followed revelation—a fearful silence dictating that everything one knew about something was indeed wrong, or perhaps unexpected common knowledge. The students clicked away at their laptops, attempting to search for a picture that didn’t condemn them to the professor’s call-out of the ordinary and basic. But most of them were guilty of such a crime, especially Jungwoo. Joy was as well, but she wasn’t majoring in photography, rather in fashion design, so she simply waved off the revelation like it was someone telling her something unimpressive.

“Since we’re reaching the end of the semester, your project is to have a shoot consisting of something that is either not typically beautiful or part of your environment. I want interesting pictures, people.”

The professor rambled about certain techniques and collections that could inspire them until the time to dismiss came, in which 50 students rushed out of the class, some eager and inspired by the professor, others indifferent and tired.

“Hey, I’m meeting up with Jaehyun at the coffee shop. Wanna hang?” Joy’s voice stood out against the blur of chattering people.

“And be a third wheel? No, thank you. I’m going to admin to get my schedule sorted out for next semester.”

“Ugh, boring. Well, good luck. I hope you don’t get any annoying people,” she said as she turned away, her long brown hair slipping over her shoulder.

Jungwoo grinned at the lingering tone of Joy’s words and did so as he picked a book from his bag to read on his way to administration. It was an odd, and perhaps bad, habit to read while he walked, but after torment, he faced on social media during high school because of who he was, Jungwoo wasn’t much of a phone person. And reading, well, it brought him somewhere he could be whoever he wanted to be. He enjoyed painting scenes with the words on the page, building a house with them and living in it. Reading was the only love he had besides photography and the cherishing of his friendship with Joy. But at times it was too much. Like now, when, as he turned a corner, he crashed into another student, falling onto his butt and flinging the book towards the wall of the hallway.

_I lost my page._

“Bro, are you serious? Look where you’re going,” the boy yelled.

Jungwoo turned his head up and glanced at the victim of his bad habit. He was young, younger than Jungwoo. His eyebrows were pushed together, yet never touched. His eyes were large and round enough that the dark irises which inhabited them looked like giant ambers staring back. And his nose looked like it was sculpted by the finest clay of the oldest rivers. But his lips, they were more entrancing than anything: plump, red, and soft by the looks of it.

_Stop staring._

“You owe me a coffee. It spilled everywhere.” The boy said.

Jungwoo looked at the spilled drink, which had touched the pages of the book he once loved. It was ruined now. The papers had stuck to each other and a stain spread throughout the chapters he had not finished reading.

“My book. That was a signed Alice Walker.” He said to himself, yet his words were loud enough to be heard by the other boy.

“Your book? What about my coffee—and my shirt?”

“I apologize for not paying attention. I don’t have cash on me now but you can stop by my dorm tomorrow and I’ll give you the money for your coffee.” Jungwoo responded guiltily.

The boy was taken back by Jungwoo’s willingness to actually offer him money for coffee and felt bad. He thought Jungwoo must’ve been one of those types of people—the ones that still have a pure heart and care about people so much they do anything to appease them. He didn’t hate people like that; he felt sorry for them.

“Look, man, I’m sorry. Today has been so stressful and—just, don’t worry about the coffee, ‘kay. Have a good day.” The boy picked up the almost empty cup and discarded it in a nearby trashcan.

Jungwoo carefully lifted his book off the wet ground and held it by the edge of its spine while he changed his schedule and made it back to his dorm. There, he placed it on his desk, which was where he edited his pictures and kept mementos of his adventures with Joy. He left the book open so that the air could dry it and took off his bag to change into more comfortable clothes. He wasn’t planning on doing anything for the rest of his ruined day. So he rested on his bed and thought about that boy, the one that ruined his favorite book. He thought of how angry he was with Jungwoo—the coldness in his voice. And how it melted when Jungwoo offered to pay him back. It was almost like that boy had never felt someone care that much about something so little.  
The luminous yellow light that once burst through Jungwoo’s window turned a dark red. And as night fell so did Jungwoo’s eyelids. Until finally, he had been touched by sleep.


End file.
